


in your eyes i could be anyone (but i'm no one)

by writingjunkie



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (also found family), (hahaha jk i'm incredibly cliche), (hope you enjoy sappy moments and cheesy dialogue), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, I really don't know how to tag, M/M, Slow Burn, andrew is working with him, i just want my foxes to be cute little babies okay, neil is still on the run, not a plot rewrite because i'm MARGINALLY ORIGINAL, not exactly a high school au but high school age, poor neil, riko moriyama is not in this because no thanks, this is an incredibly self-indulgent fic, wymack is the police chief, young foxes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingjunkie/pseuds/writingjunkie
Summary: Stopping in Palmetto was more necessity than choice. Neil’s mother had been injured for almost a month, infection getting worse, and they had almost entirely run out of money. Neil would’ve done anything to have another option, but he wasn’t one to dream. Instead, he spends his time doing more practical things, like robbing apartments to make a couple hundred dollars for food.Andrew isn’t sure whether Nicky thought going to the police station with Police Chief Wymack would make him more likely to be a police officer or less likely to be a criminal, but it didn’t really matter anyway. It’s a boring job in a boring place and no where near as entertaining as the bar that Nicky worked at. But when a young thief gets taken into custody, investigating the mystery he presents suddenly becomes far more interesting.AKA a super self-indulgent fic where twelve-year-old Neil is still on the run but finds himself squatting on the wrong side of the tracks of Palmetto with his injured mother. Wymack is a police chief, Andrew is curious, and the foxes slowly adopt Neil.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 19
Kudos: 142





	1. i'm an atom in a see of nothing (looking for another to combine)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to this incredibly self-indulgent fic. You may think I'm joking but no. I'm writing my thesis and this is my escape. You're welcome. A couple things you may want to know in advance:
> 
> 1) Neil and his mother have run out of money in this for literally no reason besides plot. I know they have money in the books but again, i am self-indulgent
> 
> 2) All the foxes are 12-14 because my babies will be happy
> 
> 3) all the chapters are named after lyrics from Gabrielle Aplin songs (so is the whole fic actually. "Don't Break Your Heart on Me." Give it a listen ;))
> 
> Sooo yeah, enjoy. I cannot promise the best writing, but I can promise some achingly sweet fluff and angsty angst angst so enjoy that. 
> 
> Now on to the story :)))

It was unbearably hot out.

A heatwave was passing through the city of Palmetto and it was impossible not to notice it, even during the night when it was supposed to be cooler out. The heat sat itself low in the air, blanketing everything out on the street. From the pavement to the road, to the twelve-year-old boy standing against a building, waiting the last minutes before the clock to strike 2:45 AM.

Neil had been standing there for what felt like forever. Technically, he could’ve struck anytime after two, when the man living in the apartment would be at work at the local gas station, but his mother had told him two-forty-five, and Neil had been trained to be good at listening.

Neil and his mother had been living in Palmetto for a week now. They had been Neil and Kate Josten for the last week. It had been a week since Kate’s long festering injury had become bad enough for her to need to rest, about a week since their already dwindling money supply had drained down to nothing, about a week since they had to come out with another plan for money.

Breaking into houses wasn’t too much of a problem when you’ve been doing it for two years. And in this neighborhood, people always kept their money in far too obvious places. The worst of it was the late nights. And, of course, the unbearable heat.

Neil flicked his watch up again, just as the time flicked into two-forty-five. He looked up at the building of the apartment he was planning on getting into. The window, the third one from the left on the second floor, was cracked open, just the way his mom had said it would be. It would be easy then, to get in and out within fifteen minutes.

Neil set a timer on his watch and set to business. He moved quickly off the wall, jumping on top of the dumpster to reach the fire escape's ladder. From there it was easy. In and out.

The apartment was as unimpressive as the rest of the town. A bed sat in the middle of the room, unmade and messy. It smelled exactly like Neil thought it would, a mix between dust and the illegal substances that passed throughout the hands of the people in this town. He didn’t have to look very hard before he found a stash of money hidden in a cereal box in one of the kitchen cupboards. He wondered if there was any creativity left to hide it somewhere better. Neil shuffled through the bills in his hand, a little over three hundred dollars, he guessed. It was likely all the man had. And Neil didn’t even know his name.

He didn’t have time to be guilty though. He shoved the money into the pocket of his hoodie. As quickly as he’d gotten in the window, he got out. He checked his watch as he walked down the street again. Two-fifty-six. Thirteen minutes. A new record. He allowed himself the luxury of a small swell of pride, a challenge to do better next time.

Neil put his hood up as he walked away from what he’d just done. The easy part was over, now it was the trouble of walking home.

Neil had been trained well enough to fit in. his mother had made sure of that. But that didn’t mean it was always easy. In his hoodie and ragged jeans, he would’ve fit in with the town most days, and in most places. But this apartment was downtown, it was a Saturday night, and Palmetto was flooded with college kids and clubgoers, all adorned in their sparkliest and skimpiest. People dressed like him would be glared at, treated like garbage on the sidewalk. Neil kept his eyes on the ground, and walked with the flow enough to blend in.

Or at least, he thought so.

The footsteps were hurried behind him, and Neil noticed them almost immediately. He shouldered through the crowd, trying to get somewhere that whoever was following him wouldn’t be able to catch him. Neil felt his heart leap into his throat. The worst possibilities ran through his mind. His father’s men. His father himself. Their knives and guns. His mother was hurt. What would happen now?

Neil started running but it was to no avail. The crowd worked against him, slowing him down despite his natural speed. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, pushing him down to the ground before he could even think to flinch. He sat back on his hands, waiting for the blow or the gunshot or something. _Got you, Junior,_ he could hear his father’s voice in his mind. He was Nathaniel again, ten-years-old, running out of the house in the middle of the night.

“What are you up to, kid?” A voice that was unrecognizable said to him. Neil forced himself to look up for the first time, finding a police officer instead of one of his Dad’s cronies.

He was large, broad-shouldered and visibly forceful. Nothing like the unassuming stature of his father. But he was just old enough that Neil wanted nothing to do with him. Neil didn’t answer immediately, fear catching all the words in his throat. “I said, what are you up to, kid?” The cop took another step closer, making him scoot back on instinct. Something raw and angry dislodged in his chest.

“Walking. What does it look like I’m doing?” He spat back.

The cop glared daggers back at him. He grabbed the walkie talkie clipped onto his shirt. “I’ve got a runaway on main street. Seems like he might be dangerous.”

“I haven’t even done anything!” Neil snapped. He couldn’t even get the words out before the boot landed on his chest, holding him down.

“Is that a threat?” The cop grumbled at him.

No. It wasn’t. Neil didn’t need a threat to punch him in the leg, hard enough for the cop to lift his leg up off the ground. He got himself up off the ground and swung again, making contact with the cop’s face before a second someone pulled his hands behind his back, forcing him down to the ground again. His head had hit the ground hard enough to bleed. Neil still kicked, and flailed and did what he could, but even then, the cop’s strength was too much for him. They pulled him out and tossed him into the back of the car liked he was nothing. “God, when did these people get so _violent?”_

Neil’s smile curled on his face for a moment before breaking under his breath. He came back to himself, shaking, knowing what was happening now. He was getting _arrested._ What would his mother say? What was he going to do?

Neil tucked his head into his hands, his mind reeling in a way that was all too familiar as the police car pulled away from the curb.

++

It was cold in the station. Colder than Andrew liked after he’d gotten accustomed to sitting in Eden’s Twilight with Nicky on Saturday nights. But then again, sitting in the police chief’s chair was cooler than hiding out in the back.

Nicky had gotten into the habit of taking the twins with him to work on Saturday’s after their last babysitter quit. It was easier after all, without having to pay for the babysitter for the night and with the twins close just in case. Nicky’s friends didn’t seem to think so though.

When Wymack, their neighbor and mentor of every single one of the younger parents in the neighborhood, figured this out, there was no chance that they could hang out the back room of a club. Instead, he and his wife Abby each took one of the kids to their jobs on Saturday nights, Andrew to the police station with Wymack, and Aaron to the hospital with Abby. Maybe they should’ve been in bed, catching up on sleep, but hey, the twins argued that if Nicky could stay up then they should too. And no one knew how to argue that. Abby and Wymack figured they could learn something better there then at the bar. And luckily their jobs fit the twin’s interests.

Well, they got Aaron right.

Andrew wasn’t sure if they wanted to become a police chief like Wymack or if they wanted to dissuade him from getting into one of those holding cells himself. He felt like it was supposed to be the latter, but it was far more effective at doing the former.

As far as Andrew could tell, the police station was more boring than the backroom of the bar. The tour Wymack gave him was pretty cool, and he even showed him the holding cells where they arrest people for the night. But other than that, it looked like the officer’s only job was to fill out paperwork.

He spun around on the chair. Wymack had sat in the seat to the side of him after he’d decided to sit there. He didn’t even say anything about Andrew placing himself in his big leather chair, except a few grumbles at first. Andrew pictured himself as the villain in a comic book as he spun the chair around again. He’d spun forty-seven times in this chair, and was planning on doing it another before the cop walked in.

He was in uniform, with a black eye blossoming across his left eye.

“We got a new Chief, huh?” The cop said, plopping down in the chair in front of him. “What’s your policy on smoking in the office, huh?”

Andrew shrugged. “As long as you give me one, I don’t care.”

Wymack gave a sharp laugh. “Over your cousin’s dead body.” Wymack looked up from his laptop, looking at the cop who’d just come in. “What’re you doing in my office, Hernandez?”

Hernandez laughed, putting his hands up innocently. “Just my job. Found a kid stumbling around on Main Street. He had three hundred and fifty dollars in his pocket,” He pulled out a plastic evidence bag, filled with small bills. “Got him in cell three.”

Wymack narrowed his eyebrows at him. “How old is he?”

Hernandez nodded his head towards Andrew. “Probably around the same age as the chief over here.”

Hmm. That was interesting.

Wymack hummed under his breath. He shot a look over at Andrew, quick as light. “Why don’t you go check it out. Outline the situation for me?”

Even more interesting. Andrew nodded and almost shot out of the chair before Hernandez started talking again.

Hernandez raised an eyebrow. “You’re willing to put a kid out there with a thief? A violent one, too?”

Wymack shrugged. “You’ve still been doing those karate lessons with Renee, right?”

“Ju jitsu,” Andrew said, swinging the chair back and forth. “Not karate.”

“See?” Wymack said to the cop in the chair, “Ju jitsu.”

In reality, Wymack probably just asked him to do it because he wasn’t taking Hernandez seriously, not because he really wanted Andrew to use his black belt (unfortunately). If the kid really _was_ Andrew’s age, there wasn’t much to be done except send him home and maybe talk to his parents just in case. That was how Nicky met him after all.

Hernandez scoffed. “Fine. Don’t yell at me when he comes back with a black eye.”

“Cell three,” Wymack said, almost like he wasn’t listening. “You know where it is right?”

Andrew did. He got out of the chair, stretching after how long he’d been sitting. He didn’t really care about leaving the office, not when there wasn’t anything exciting left there. “Keep your phone on, just in case,” Wymack called to him.

Andrew held his phone up over his shoulder to show that he had it, walking out of the room.

Palmetto had an unsurprisingly high crime rate, given the amount of poverty and homelessness. But the station was completely empty at this time of day. It was surprisingly unsettling.

He walked through the station, flicking on lights that Wymack had turned off. He checked the time on his watch. Almost 3:30. Nicky would be done at work soon, and that meant Andrew would have to go home. At least he could have something interesting happen in the meantime.

Andrew stood outside cell three, and found a kid that was obviously younger than him inside He was all skin and bone and dull brown hair. Even his clothes were a dusty shade of brown. He wasn’t even looking at anything. He was the definition of boring, even with the bruises and scrape marks marking his face. As a package, it was unexciting. But it had some potential in the presentation.

The kid’s hands were cuffed outside the bars of the cell, cuffs looped through the bars so he couldn’t even walk away from the doors of the cell. He was tugging at them before Andrew managed to distract him.

The kid looked up when Andrew stepped forward. Brown eyes too. How exceedingly dull. “Why are your hands all tied up like that?” Andrew asked it before he could think of something more along the lines of what Wymack would’ve wanted. Something like _what’s your name?_ Or _what’re you doing here?_ Or _Do you want to make a phone call?_ It was something though.

The kid looked away, but because he was so close, he couldn’t move far out of Andrew’s gaze. It must’ve been something he knew, because his face blushed red. He sighed when he realized he was stuck. “The other cop said he didn’t want me punching whoever came in here next.”

Andrew gave him a look, the bruises on Hernandez’s face suddenly making much more sense. Andrew almost laughed at the idea of it. “ _You_ gave him that shiner?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t expect him to say yes, given that Hernandez already basically confirmed it.

Andrew could’ve sworn his ears got even redder. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, shuffling on the spot. “I wanted him off of me, and his face just happened to be close to my fist.”

Suddenly, all the brown and beige and boring seemed more cover than actuality. Andrew squinted his eyes at him, trying to decipher what was standing in front of him. He was poised like he was remorseful, but at the same time, as soon as that door opened, he would no doubt take off running. His shoulders were hitched up to his ears, all reaction, waiting to see what Andrew’s next move was going to be.

“Let’s play a game,” Andrew said, “Truth for truth.”

“That doesn’t sound like a game. Sounds like an interrogation,” The kid said suspiciously. This kid breathed in suspicion and exhaled caution. Another point in favor of interesting.

“Can’t be an interrogation if I’m answering your questions back, right? Then it’s just a trade,” Andrew said, repositioning himself so he was leaning against the wall rather than standing in front of him. “I’ll even let you go first.”

The kid narrowed his eyes warily. “What’s your name?”

“That’s really your question?”

He shrugged. Andrew sighed. He took back some of his interesting points. “Andrew. What’s yours?”

“Neil. What are you doing here? You’re too young to be a cop.” He leaned closer, tilting his head to the side. “How old are you anyway?”

“That’s two questions. Choose one.”

Neil took a moment trying to decide. “What are you doing here?”

“My cousin is friends with the police chief. I’m playing assistant until he gets out of work. Where’d you get the three hundred dollars from?” That was really the question Andrew was waiting to ask, and it was probably the one Neil wanted to avoid most.

His shoulder were hitched up to his ears again. “How do you know about that?”

“It’s my turn actually.”

Neil tried pulling his arms away, just slightly, like a reflex. “What happens if I don’t answer?”

“You forfeit.” Andrew said. It wasn’t like it was that important to him anyway. It was obvious the money wasn’t his. Andrew didn’t need to know the specifics.

Neil took a breath anyway. He looked away again, probably wishing he had an easier out. “I stole it. There was this apartment and the window was open and I—” Neil paused, looking back at his hands “—my mom’s sick. She can’t work. I just—”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence and he didn’t appear to try to. Andrew looked him up and down again. The way his hoodie hung off his shoulders, revealing an all too prominent collar bone and scars sprinkled around his neck. If his clothes said anything, he was homeless. If his scars said anything, he wasn’t having a particularly easy time of it. His hands were shaking in the cuffs, just enough so that Andrew would notice. He had nowhere to hide it either.

Neil looked away, chewing at the inside of his cheek anxiously. “Am I really being arrested?”

Andrew shook his head. “Wymack doesn’t arrest kids. The worst you’ll get is a slap on the wrist.”

As if on cue, Wymack walked in, all charm and easiness despite his muscular frame. Neil noticeably shrunk back. “Hey kids, how’s it going in here?”

Andrew shrugged. “Neil and I were just talking. Hernandez handcuffed him to the bars.” Andrew figured that was something Wymack would want to know too.

“Before or after you punched him in the face?” ymack asked, moving to unlock the cell.

Neil still hadn’t raised his head. He didn’t even look like he was thinking about it as an option when he answered. “After, Sir.”

Wymack shook his head. “No ‘Sir’. Just call me Wymack. Or Coach. That’s what everyone calls me these days.”

Wymack sent him a pointed look even though he was only occasionally a part of that everyone, and not out of his own volition. Andrew wasn’t sure what he expected when he started coaching the little league exy team, but he didn’t point that out. Wymack opened the door, then unlocked Neil’s cuffs. He swiped at his wrists like he wanted to rub out the marks where the cuffs had dug into his skin. He stepped out of Wymack’s reach as soon as he had the opportunity. Wymack sighed and picked up where he left off. “Alright. Why don’t you give us an address, Neil? Let’s get you home before sunrise.”

Neil shot his head up at that. “I can just walk, actually. I don’t want to be too much trouble or anything and—”

Wymack was already shaking his head by the time he actually cut him off. “You’re past curfew. Can’t let you keep walking the streets at this time of night.”

Neil went back to biting his inner cheek. “My mom—she—”

“Will be happy to have her son back safe and sound, and _not_ getting arrested,” Wymack said, gesturing for Neil to follow him out of the cell. “Come on. I’m too tired for this.”

Neil hesitated for just a second longer, before looking at Andrew one last time for reassurance. When Andrew shrugged in the direction of Wymack, and they both followed him out.


	2. can we believe all that we read all that we tell you (what you perceive to be the truth and what is real)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weee a new chapter finally. I finished my thesis so hopefully these will get more regular but tbh who knows with school starting. Anyway this chapter is one of the sadder ones for a while. TW for some pretty obvious child abuse but nothing graphic. It's a given with these books am I right? Speaking of which the moment in question is less graphic than the books, mostly because I didn't want to write it. Happy fic! This is a cheesy happy fic! With some pocket moments of sad. We will get through them together.
> 
> (PS please congratulate me on finishing my thesis it is thirty three pages long and it was way harder to write than this is  
> finishing it is like finding freedom again i've never been more relieved)
> 
> (PPS this title is from "Lying to the Mirror." Give it a listen if you're feeling it)

It’s not the driving in a cop car that sets Neil off, although being in the front seat instead of the back is a little disconcerting. It wasn’t even the kind of car that _had_ a backseat. But no, that was nothing. It’s watching the streets roll by, streets he usually occupied on foot, and knowing that the police chief and Andrew alike were going to know where he lived, where he stayed that dug under his skin. That he existed at all. His mother was going to kill him.

Neil tucked himself against the car door, half out of exhaustion, half out of dread. Andrew was in the back leaning onto the center console, staring at Neil suspiciously. Neil could feel it, and looked even more pointedly away.

It was almost four in the morning now, and the windows of the buildings downtown glinted blue against the almost lit sky. It would’ve been nice, if Neil didn’t remember where he was. They kept driving, and the tall shining glass of downtown dropped into squat brown buildings, sidewalks into dried unkempt grass. Andrew hummed something in the backseat, and Neil made sure to ignore it. They passed the turn onto the street where he lived, and his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Neil reminded himself that he was expecting this. That they probably knew it from the moment they found the money in his pockets. Or when they saw his clothes. But the house they were staying in was a different kind of defeat. They were squatting in it for one thing. And the caution tape and piles of garbage didn’t exactly make that a hidden fact.

Wymack stopped the car, pulling into the gravel in front of the house. There was a pause that was so loud, Neil wanted to run out of the car. Instead, Neil pushed open the door and undid his seatbelt.

What Neil wasn’t expecting was the door to click open on Wymack’s side, for him to click off his seatbelt. Neil whipped his head around to look at him.

Wymack turned to look at him too. “No worries, kid. Just want to let your family know where you’ve been.”

Neil held his arguments back in his throat with his panic and kept them down with a nod. He felt the burning pressure of Andrew’s eyes on the side of his head, and refused to give him the satisfaction of eye contact. He tried to ignore the sound of their doors opening when he got out of the car.

There was no way they didn’t see what the house looked like and no way they didn’t make assumptions based off of it. He could almost hear Wymack’s apprehension from the driver’s side door. At least Neil had thought to rip the ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign off the door.

Neil knocked first, before Wymack could notice his apprehension. He already knew his mom wouldn’t answer the door herself, not even if she didn’t have a bullet wound in her hip. “You know what, she’s probably asleep, actually. I’ll just go through the back and—”

  
“You’re not getting how this works,” Andrew chimed in, almost as if this was a joke. “If you’re going through the back, so are we. Can’t run away from this one.”

Neil rolled his eyes over to him with a sneer. “Fine.”

Neil reached for the top of the door frame for a key that wasn’t there. When he found nothing, he turned his back to them so they couldn’t see that there was nothing in the keyhole and lifted the door off its hinges to push it open. Maybe there were benefits to a crappy house.

It was always sunrise, and the morning light streamed through the windows enough to illuminate the place. Soft dust fell through the rays of it, and landed in threadbare carpet, on the torn furniture. Even in this house, this held together by a string and a hope for safety, it was some kind of beautiful.

His mother was laying on the couch, exactly as she’d been when he’d left. A blanket covered her legs. It would’ve been almost homey, if Neil didn’t happen to know that her hand, resting at her side, was on a gun, and she would’ve used it if she hadn’t heard him speak right outside the door. 

“Neil,” she responded, painting relief and panic into her voice. “Where have you been? I’ve been up for hours.”

He thought sometimes, that in another life, another world, his mom would’ve been an amazing actress. Probably would’ve had awards lining her shelfs and everything. But instead, she used it here, where the only one who knew how good it was, was Neil.

There were things that were true, she likely had been worried about him after he hadn’t come home on their agreed upon time, probably would’ve stayed up for a while waiting for him, but that didn’t matter really. She used the right colors and painted a different picture. It was smart. Realistic.

“I was—”

“He got brought into the police station, a few hours ago, ma’am,” Wymack answered for him, his voice reaching a manufactured depth to give him importance. “He was found with three hundred dollars in his pocket. Unless you give him that much pocket change, I’m guessing he was pickpocketing.”

Neil held his breath for just two seconds. She wouldn’t do anything here, not when she was in the middle of the spotlight, but it didn’t mean his heart didn’t stop beating in the middle of his chest. “Is that true, Neil?”

Neil felt everyone’s eyes turn to him to answer and his words dried up. He shrugged instead. His mother hummed at him in response. “Really. I’m so sorry officer, he must’ve gotten out while I was at work.” Neil caught Andrew’s meaningful glance out of the corner of his eye. He looked to the ground to avoid seeing it. “I can promise you this will never happen again.”

She said the last sentence slowly, making sure he knew what she really meant. Neil’s stomach all but clenched. “Glad to hear it.” Wymack adjusted his belt in the slightly awkward silence. “I think it’s been a long night. Sorry for the interruption, ma’am.”

Neil could almost breathe lighter because of that. He’d been in the house, and even that was enough to ruin the night, but at least it was going to be over. At least he might grab a couple hours of sleep before going on a run. He wouldn’t mind that.

Wymack turned around quickly. Andrew took a second longer. He gave him a look, out of the corners of his eye, like he was trying to figure something out, and the answer was further away than this one. “You gonna run away again, Rabbit?”

Neil shot a look over at his mom before he could stop himself. He knew better than to risk looking like they were too close of friends. “Not any time soon no.”

Andrew’s face didn’t change much but the amount it did was enough to make Neil nervous. “I guess I won’t be seeing you again then. Lucky for me.”

Something that Neil had forgotten existed dropped in his chest. It was the same small disconnected thing that flinched every time his mother told him his time at a school was over. He tried to ignore it. “I guess not.”

A smirk broke across the edge of Andrew’s lip, “See you never, then.”

Andrew said it like he meant it. And Neil wondered if maybe he did. Neil wondered if he had the same small thing moving in his chest. Andrew left before he could find the answer.

There was about three seconds of silence after the door closed. Three seconds where there was nothing to be heard but the faint footsteps of Andrew and Wymack walking across the gravel driveway, then a car starting and pulling away in that same driveway. Three seconds where the sinking in Neil’s chest had changed to a clenched heartbeat.

“Neil.” His mother said it softly, like it was more a kind request than what it was going to be. “What was that about?”

“I—” Neil paused, trying to catch the words as they fell out of his mouth, knowing they’d come out in the wrong order as they so often did. “I got caught and—”

“You got caught.” Another pause. Another quiet moment of pretend peace.

Neil broke it before his mother could. “By the police.”

“Yes. This time. This time you get caught by the police and next time you get caught by your father’s men.” Her voice got just a touch louder every time. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, Abram.”

Neil turned sharply to look at her. She was standing up, leaning her good leg and the arm of the couch. With her free hand she grabbed his chin. “Don’t even think I’ll feel sorry for you when you die because of your stupidity.”

Neil half listened to the rest of her rant, half followed her orders with obedient nods. He knew it by heart by now. The way she wanted him to say he was sorry. The way she would tell him to think about what his father would do to him before he would let him die. The way she would hit him.

At least it was better than anything he could expect from his father. That was true.

When he opened his eyes again, he was laying on his back on the carpet, sticky, once hot blood pasting across his face. It was true morning now, judging by the what the sunlight streamed through the dust caked windows and cut across on the carpet. Some kind of beautiful.

Neil sat up, his hair pulling free from the pooled blood on the carpet. He wondered how much stain remover would cost. He wondered how much of it he would need if he wanted to scrub this whole house clean, how much more if he wanted to scrub every carpet he’d bled on, and then decided it would be a pointless purchase. He pulled himself up, body sore from the beating and the running and everything that came with it, and headed to the small bathroom.

There wasn’t any running water in this house, but there was a jug of it Neil would refill at the hose three houses down. Neil took a cup of it to spill over the blood, just enough to scrub his face clean, not enough to be wasteful. He checked his reflection in the mirror, enough to look, not enough to see anything besides red tinged but blood-free skin and the fresh bruises on his face. At least his jacket covered the rest of the ones that he felt on his arms. Good enough.

He headed into the small kitchen next. He knew there was nothing, but he’d check the cupboards anyway. The fridge would be a bust without any electricity. He found empty boxes, without any money inside because his mom was smarter than that.

He looked over at her from where he stood. She looked so peaceful in her sleep, so incredibly calm despite it all. Maybe there was a version of the world where she actually looked like this all the time. Even here though, he knew her decisions were pulled out of panic. She wouldn’t even sleep in the bedroom, just in case anyone came through the front door and she wouldn’t notice. Even if she trusted him, he wouldn’t be in a room on his own.

And the lack of food in the fridge sure wasn’t going to make her any happier.

Neil knew that spending all his time thinking was pointless, but it wasn’t the worst waste of time, given that this one wasn’t going to kill him. Or have him killed.

Either way, he didn’t have time for it. Not while he had food to grab.

Neil was again thankful for his hoodie, more specifically the hood on this time around. He placed the hood on his head and headed out the door.

__

Andrew walked out of Neil’s house that night with the only thought on his mind being to go back. Not necessarily to the house, but to the people inside.

Neil Josten should not have been as interesting as he was. He was a brown-haired boy from the bad part of town in a pool of a hundred others that were almost exactly the same, even down to the terrible parents. But something in the way Neil answered his questions and almost looked like he didn’t believe his answers himself made him want to find the right ones. The answers that didn’t take him a second to formulate.

First, he’d have to deal with Nicky though.

Nicky got up at eight every morning like clockwork. Even with the late nights at Eden’s, he would make sure to get up at the same time every morning. Even when the bags under his eyes were the darkest shade of purple and his steps were short and slumped between them, he get up before Andrew and Aaron every single morning to great them with eggs and toast and whatever else he’d decided to cook. He’d never even let Erik do it for him. Nicky claimed it was because Erik’s job as an overnight nurse required him to be more awake than bartending at Eden’s, but that was such an obvious lie that even Aaron saw through it.

Andrew made the conscious choice not to think about it too often. But it was inevitable this morning. Especially when he was trying to get his bike out of the garage from where it hung. “Andrew?” Nicky asked, standing in the doorway to the garage with a frying pan in one hand and an egg in the other. He figured it would’ve been for cooking but it would’ve been interesting to see what he would’ve done if it was an intruder rather than his own cousin. “What’re you doing?”

Andrew looked at him, standing on a storage box with his hands stretched high over his head. The bike hung from two hooks on the ceiling and Andrew’s body was far too short to help him out in this particular instance.

Andrew sighed. What he needed was to get his bike down. And who he needed was standing in front of him. “Come. I need your height.”

“Oh,” Nicky said, slight confusion in his tired voice. “You’re not gonna stay for breakfast?”

Andrew wasn’t hungry. More tired. But he knew that Nicky would care about breakfast. He rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you know after you _help me._ ”

Nicky had already placed down the pan and singular egg by the time he’d said it. He pulled the bike down with ease. Andrew was decidedly not jealous. “Here,” Nicky said, placing it down on the floor. He squeezed the tire, and watched the rubber give way. “We’re gonna need to have these pumped up sometime soon. You’ll have to ask Kevin for his air pump one of these days.”

Andrew was impressed by how boring Nicky could be. How he managed it while also being one of the most flamboyant people Andrew has ever met was a feat in and of itself.

He made his way to the garage door button, hitting it while Nicky was still talking. He didn’t stop until Andrew got on his bike, and wheeled it through the open doorway. “… sounds like a pretty good idea and everything but—” Nicky paused realizing what had happened. “Oh— where are you going?”

“Out,” Andrew kicked the stand out from under his feet.

“Hey,” Nicky called before he could get away from him. He tossed something towards him, and through nothing but luck, Andrew caught it. “Bike lock. Just in case.”

Andrew almost rolled his eyes again. What could he expect from Nicky except to encourage him to do what he wanted but this time _safely._ He started pedaling before Nicky could say anything else.

Andrew memorized most of the pathways in the town. It was a ridiculously simple job in this small college town. Even with Wymack’s warnings about places that were dangerous for kids who stuck their noses into places they weren’t allowed, it was easy enough to evade cop cars if you knew where you were going.

Andrew headed in the direction of the house, tracing the same streets from the early morning. It looked different now that the morning had been replaced by hot afternoon air. Andrew much preferred the less sunny weather, when he didn’t have to squint against the glare. But that was something few and far between in these impossible Southern summers.

Biking was not one of his favorite activities either, but it got him places, and that was worth it. He wished his sixteenth birthday wasn’t three years away and he could get in a car and drive and not pedal all around town like an idiot.

Andrew turned down the road that Neil’s house was on, and kept riding. It wasn’t far, just a couple of blocks, but he already saw something that was going to throw him off the course. Specifically, a little hooded figure, with red curls poking out from under the black fabric. Walking in the opposite direction to where he was riding. Interesting.

Andrew stopped his bicycle on the side of the road. Neil didn’t even look at him as he passed and entered into the tiny grocery store nearby. Andrew drove his bicycle up to the front and found a pole to lock his bike to. Andrew made a note to thank Nicky for not getting his bike stolen. Another time. When he wasn’t so annoyed about it.

Andrew and his cousin didn’t necessarily live in the best neighborhood but not necessarily the worst either. Neil definitely lived in the worst. If his house wasn’t enough proof, this grocery store definitely was. It smelled distinctly like dust and cardboard and meat that’s been sitting out slightly too long. Andrew tried not to grimace against it.

He walked through the aisles trying to look less out of place than he felt. He wondered if anyone felt particularly connected to this place. There was no one really there to watch him, but he wondered how weird he looked, looking down the aisles for nothing but a person. A person who was rather identifiable given the circumstances.

The next aisle was rather lucrative in that sense. Neil stood there, running his hands over his boxes, like was looking for something. Or longing for something. Maybe it was a mix of them both. Andrew was just thinking about how to approach him when his hand lingered on a box a little longer than the rest and took it and put it in his pocket. Neil didn’t even stop walking.

Interesting.

Andrew followed him even closer. Watched him grab a bag of rice and another of beans on top of the pasta he’d grabbed earlier. The rabbit clearly functioned on a diet exclusively built on carbs. No wonder he was built like a string bean. The jacket made him look bulkier but not much.

Andrew waited for him at the cash registers, leaning against the last shelf. Neil clearly had no intention of paying. He had his eyes locked on the door out. “Hey, Rabbit. I thought you said you weren’t going to be running anytime soon.”

Neil jumped at his words, rounding on him like he was expecting to die. “Andrew,” he said, sounding almost relieved. “What are you doing?”

“I could ask the same thing,” Andrew said, pointedly looking at his pockets. Neil tried to hide his blanching. “You know shoplifting is a crime, right?”

“Obviously,” he said, hands in his pockets, trying to push away any larger lumps. He was cornered, and his first reaction was to hide even more. He flicked his eyes over to a cashier, who was clearly watching them. Maybe Neil wasn’t as good at this as he thought. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Well I’m not here to watch you shop,” Andrew took his wallet out of his pocket. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Neil froze. “That’s—It’s not—”

Andrew was already walking towards the cashier. Neil didn’t exactly have a choice anymore. Andrew sighed anyway. “I’m waiting.”

Neil walked nervously towards him, and with the same nervous hands he placed the things in the conveyor belt.

Nicky had given him and Aaron each a debit card for his thirteenth birthday. Something about trust and capabilities and not wanting to give them cash anymore. Forty dollars a month. Andrew had been saving up for months now, gotten close to two hundred now. He wasn’t expecting to use it all, but he was expecting at least ten percent of it.

“Nine dollars and thirty-six cents is your total,” the cashier read in the most bored voice in the world.

Andrew’s family had always been struggling, until Erik and Wymack and all his other friends came into the picture and made things a little easier. But even at their worst, they could spare ten dollars. Neil’s clearly couldn’t.

Neil blushed as red as his hair. “It’s not—”

Andrew put his card away and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. He placed it in Neil’s hand. “You’ve got another ten dollars and sixty-four cents. Go find something else to spend it on.”

Neil looked at him for a second. “What else would I spend it on.”

Andrew scoffed. “Gum. More bread. A fucking bag of frozen peas for your face.”

Neil gingerly raised a hand to his jaw where the bruises marred his skin. Andrew didn’t have to mention how ugly it looked, or who gave it to him. That part was obvious. “I don’t need you to—”

“Clearly you do. Don’t argue with me,” Andrew responded before Neil could finish his sentence. He waved his hand. “Run along little rabbit. Stop making me wait for you.”

Neil opened his mouth to argue, but Andrew’s waving hand shut him up. He turned to go back down the aisles. He returned barely any time later with three apples and a box of bandaids.

Still wouldn’t come out to ten dollars. Andrew rolled his eyes and grabbed a chocolate bar off the shelf. “That’s mine.”

“Whatever.” He handed over the twenty-dollar bill and got almost five dollars back in change. He almost handed it back, but another waving hand had him backing off. Neil reluctantly placed it in his pockets. He grabbed the white plastic baggie from the cashier, who looked thankful that it was over.

Andrew walked out in front of him, and pulled him along by his sleeve as soon as he grabbed the receipt. “Come on, let’s go.”

Andrew let go of his sleeve as soon as they were out of the building. Neil subsequently stopped walking and Andrew turned to look at him. He turned his face away. “Are you just going to keep forcing your way into my life? Is that your plan? Because then I want you to stop paying for things for me. I’m perfectly capable—”

Andrew snapped his fingers, feigned clarity lighting up on his face. “Ah yes, you’re definitely capable of paying for your own stuff. The pickpocketing, the house, the attempted robbery, it was an act this whole time. How couldn’t I see it before, it’s all so—”

“Shut up,” Neil growled. He looked up, his bruises darkening his features even with the direct sunlight. Right eye, left jawline. Faint traces of blood danced under his nose, across his cheek. Andrew figured there were more under the hoodie, given the view of one he’d gotten yesterday. “And you’re still not answering me.”

Andrew laughed. “Well, clearly I don’t have to. You’ve guessed it well enough.”

Neil chuckled, crossed his arms over his chest. “What is this then? A savior complex, is that what this is? You just coming in to fix me, is that it?”

Andrew felt another laugh bubbling up and squandered it in his chest before it could erupt out. “Oh, I would need several degrees and even more years of experience to fix your issues, I’m sure. No I’m just here because you seem to not understand the meaning of the word truth.”

"I didn’t lie. You, on the other hand, told me you we’d never see each other again.”

Andrew scoffed. “Right. And what did you say your mom did for work again?”

Neil blanched yet again. If he was a liar, and Andrew already knew he was, he had a lot more improving to do before he believed him. “Fine. But I still don’t see what makes this your problem.”

“Not my problem maybe. But you’re something new in my boring little town. And I do enjoy new things,” Andrew smiled. This conversation was starting to get old though. Andrew turned to gesture to his bike. “C’mon, Rabbit. I’ll walk you home. Wouldn’t want you running off again.”

“That’s yours?” Neil asked. He sounded the same way he looked when he ran his fingers over the boxes. Longing, almost.

Andrew got the longing over this. His bicycle was nice, admittedly. A birthday present from Erik, Nicky’s boyfriend. It was one of his most prized possessions. He smiled at the admiration from Neil. “You like it?”

“It’s… it’s nice.” Neil was undoubtedly trying not to sound too sappy. It wasn’t working, but he could pretend. Neil wasn’t going to call it out anyway.

And maybe that was why Andrew felt inclined to say what he did. Even after not letting Aaron or Nicky touch it for years, the question fell out of his mouth. “Wanna ride it?”

Neil turned his head quickly. “Really?”

Andrew unlocked the bicycle and grabbed the bag from him in one fluid motion. “Go for it. Before I change my mind.”

Neil hesitated for longer than Andrew would’ve expected. Andrew tried to figure it out. They were close enough in height that he’d be able to reach the pedals. And the bike was unlocked. There shouldn’t have been a problem. And then the answer hit him. “You don’t know how to ride one do you?”

“It’s just… been a while, I guess.”

Andrew rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “Get on. I’ll show you.”

***

Neil could run away. That seemed to be his thing. But bike riding was not. He rode too fast for his own good. He could barely keep the wheels straight. He seemingly forgot what his breaks were. But he had this look on his face like nothing else matters. And he rode like his life depended on it. The same way he laughed.

Andrew couldn’t help but laugh at him. With him. Something in between. Andrew didn’t bother defining it. He ran alongside the bike, even though he hated running more than biking.

Andrew saw the end coming first. Specifically, he saw the slopped roof of Neil’s house. He grabbed the back of Neil’s tire to stop him before he went too far. Neil stuttered a few words out before seeing it himself. “Oh.” He dug the end of his ratty sneaker into the ground, dirt and grass running into the holes. Neil’s smile rubbed away at the same time. Andrew decidedly did not miss it. “I guess that’s it.”

“I guess.”

Neil got off the bike and looked at him, brown eyes searching for something. He wiped his hands on his hoodie, before putting his finger to his eye, and pulling away brown to reveal blue.

Contacts. Colored ones. It seemed obvious now, even as he blinked them back into place. “There’s your truth. Your turn.”

Andrew hmmed, “Not now. Tomorrow. Same time. Same spot.”

Neil didn’t argue, but he made a face like he might. Andrew stepped onto his bike and into another phrase before he had the chance. “Maybe you’ll actually learn how to brake then. That’ll be something to see.”

Andrew kicked up dirt turning the bike around, and left Neil in his dust. He thought he might’ve felt Neil’s eyes on him as he left, but he’d already chosen not to look back.


	3. i have a dream (i wonder what it means)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is a long time coming and probably rather disappointing because it's short. Honestly I busted this out in a few hours. We get some plot set up some cuteness, but nothing real. It's less a chapter and more of an assurance that a) I am alive and b) I am still working on this fic (albeit slowly). I have been busy finishing my college experience and also defending my thesis so you know that's been fun. Sorry this took so long, hopefully we're not gonna have this long of a break before the next chapter but tbh who knows my writing schedule is basically nonexistent at this point hahaha i'm stressed forgive me. no this isn't edited or even reread who do you think I am? A good author with a decent sleep schedule? Not today, thank you very much.
> 
> Also the chapter title is from "One of Those Days" also by our lord and savior Gabrielle Aplin. Yes this fic is just basically an ad for her songs I can't help it I am but a humble author with a big thing for indie music. sue me.

Neil and his mother had lived in a million different situations while on the run. Lived in cars, in little motel rooms, in houses sometimes when they could find them. But this house had a way of making things much more difficult. 

The bedroom of the house had a window that was completely blown out, and neither Neil nor his mother was brave enough to be around a window that wasn’t newspaper-ed shut. Too much of a risk. Too many options to be breached. They barricaded the room on the first day just in case. Not that it really mattered; the bed that was in there was half rotted away. Neil couldn’t have slept there anyway. So the one-bedroom house became a studio.

And with his mother taking the couch, there wasn’t a lot of place for just Neil. He’d been used to sleeping in the same bed as his mother, but that was impossible with the couch. Even then, though Neil had to scramble for some time along.

In this house, that came in the form of the bathroom. It wasn’t a decision Neil made really. He’d hidden in there one day when his mother was feeling particularly upset, and then it had become a habit. Not too much of one. He didn’t really have a need for it, unless his mother was in a mood, or he was feeling on edge.

Neil was not feeling particularly on edge walking into the house. In fact, he didn’t feel any edges at all. More untethered. Like his body had gotten off the bike a few minutes before, but his mind had kept going racing into the sunset.

He could barely tell if the experience with Andrew was more dream or reality. His life had been set entirely in black and beige and dull muddy browns and then this kid showed up and turned it the red of his bike and the orange of the sunset and every other color he brought with him. If that shift was disorienting, the shift back was a million times worse.

He knew his mother would see it on him the minute she woke up. Worse, she’d see the plastic bag in his hand and accuse him of wasting money. Neil wasn’t really sure how he’d talk his way out of that one, seeing that the only way of getting a plastic bag that looked halfway decent was through a cashier. So he took a cautious half step into the living room and immediately headed into the bathroom, before his mother could even be jarred enough to process that he’d come in. He didn’t even knock the code into the door, just tiptoed and scurried, shut both doors as lightly as possible.

He clutched the plastic bag to his chest, pressed it tight, barely breathing in case his mother had woken up. Three seconds, five seconds, a minute, and he breathed out, slow and steady. Safety. At least something close to it. With trembling hands he opened the bag, looked down at the things inside. The color from Andrew blended into his life there, with the red of the apples and the blue box of bandaids. It was real, and this proved that. He had to stifle a laugh. He clutched the bag, and began to hide the more damning belongings in the cabinet. The apples and bandaids of course had to go.

He almost laughed again when his hand ran over the candy bar in there. All that fuss, and Andrew left it behind. Of course. It was half melted, and Neil had no real way of making it become solidified, but he still put it in his pocket. A tether and a reminder all at once.

He knew this wasn’t forever. He knew that at some point his mother would figure out, and it would be over. There was no way around it. But for this moment, in this beautiful half-reality, he could dream of a world where it could be forever.

\--

Andrew loved annoying his family. It was one of the more beautiful pleasures in his incredibly boring life. But that moment of annoyance often bridged into _concern_ and that was the moment where all that pleasure was wiped away.

Leaving for Neil the day before had been an annoyance and it was wonderful. He relished in the moment he came home and his brother yelled at him and his cousin started looking like he was going to pull his hair out. Blissful. Even more so when he refused to give them answers.

But then that bubble popped quickly the next morning, when Erik cornered him in the kitchen. “I know,” he said, before Andrew could even start, “we don’t talk before ten thirty in this house. That’s fine. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. I’m just letting you know that Nicky’s really worried. He knows you like your freedom, so he won’t tell you that he’s worried, but what you did yesterday? Really scared him.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

He hadn’t really _meant_ to stay out all day. Actually, he just wanted to spend some time with Neil and then head straight home. A couple hours max. But then there was Neil’s smile and his laugh and his goddamn _blue eyes_ and suddenly Andrew didn’t really feel like going home at all. So he drove around town until he ended up at the library and stayed there until dinner. And somehow he still didn’t feel like talking to his family at all, so he got home and didn’t. The annoyance was a nice bonus really.

“He’ll get over it,” Andrew said, over his bowl of cereal.

Erik shrugged. “Sure. Just thought you’d want to know in case he started crying.” He said it like he was trying to hard to be casual and Andrew had to hold back rolling his eyes again, if only because he thought it would seem cliché. “Just so you know, if you want to tell me where you went, I won’t tell him.”

Andrew would never say, but he liked hanging out around Erik, almost as much as he liked hanging out around Wymack. He was a good listener, and he followed the boundaries Andrew set for him. Was so much calmer than Nicky when it came to… well everything. Nicky wasn’t exactly calm and Erik provided that for him. And the twins, once he officially moved in.

But that didn’t mean Andrew didn’t find pleasure in screwing with him too. “Nah, I’m good.”

Erik looked over at him, shooting an eyebrow up over his coffee cup. “You’re good or you don’t want to tell me?”

Andrew shrugged noncommittally. “Take your pick.”

“Oh…” Erik said, clearly still trying to figure out the next right thing to say. “Well… uh… if that changes you’ll let me know right?”

“You can believe whatever you want, Erik,” Andrew said through a spoonful of Lucky Charms. Erik opened his mouth again to say something, and Andrew waved his hand to stop him. “Nope. It’s seven-sixteen. We’re done with this conversation for the next three hours and fourteen minutes.”

Erik’s face looked confused, but he left Andrew alone, finally. Andrew had gotten up earlier for the sole purpose of avoiding Nicky and seeing Erik was close enough to that. At least it was a short conversation.

Andrew expected that Neil was probably up too. Probably not eating cereal, especially not a name brand like Lucky Charms. Probably one of his apples if anything. Maybe Andrew would have to take him out to breakfast. Get him something to eat that wasn’t just carbs.

Neil was going to drain his entire bank account at this rate. Andrew only minded because he knew it was a conversation that Nicky was going to have with him. Not that it mattered. Not that he wouldn’t have a hundred conversations if it meant that Neil would smile again.

God, if rolling his eyes was cliché, this was downright disgusting.


	4. you're right there where you wanna be (you're right here in front of me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi there! This update is much faster than the last one, I know, BUT that is not the reason I'm writing this note because WE HIT 100 KUDOS! Is that a small amount compared to some of the fics for this fandom? Yes. But I'm still excited anyway!!! Thank y'all for liking it and reading it and basically being awesome. It really means a lot and I appreciate every comment I get. At the risk of being disgustingly cheesy, I have to say that I really thought this fic wouldn't get that much traction. I thought that maybe like three people would read this and I'd give up after a while. Y'all proved me wrong, and that means a lot. So thanks. The chapter is extra long this week as a celebration. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Song for the title this week: "Hurt" also by (obviously) Gabrielle Aplin. This song is probably my favorite of hers its super cute go listen to it and we can fangirl about it together

Despite his worries, Neil had picked him up exactly where he’d left him the day before, just like he promised, red bike, black clothes and all. Exactly as he’d expected. The same untethered feeling erupted in his chest all over again. He didn’t even know how to respond properly as he came to a stop just inches in front of Neil’s face.

“Blink, dumbass,” Andrew said, reaching over the bike handles to close Neil’s eyes himself. The soft weight of Andrew’s fingers rested over his eyelids. Under normal circumstances, Neil may have been nervous. With Andrew, he didn’t even jump. “Your eyes are gonna dry out and fall out of your head.”

Neil backed away an inch, letting Andrew’s hand fall back away. He worked to try to retether himself. “You—I’m just—You’re here.”

“In the flesh,” Andrew said. “Is this your new way of being a total idiot by the way? Because I liked you more without all the stuttering and staring.”

Neil blinked the confusion out of his face. He hoped the blush left his cheeks with it. “Funny, I like you more now that you aren’t following me into grocery stores. Or talking to me while I’m literally handcuffed to a holding cell. But I guess to each his own.” Neil paused, taking the candy bar out of his pocket. “You forgot that by the way.”

Now it was Andrew’s turn to stare. His was a little bit sharper, a little less expected. It made Neil’s blush return to his cheeks and ears, as bright and hot as the summer day they were standing in. “Yep, you just confirmed your idiot status.” He grabbed the candy bar out of Neil’s hands. Neil was almost embarrassed by the way it sagged under his touch. As if somehow, Andrew would know that he didn’t put it in the fridge not because he didn’t want to but because that would require _having_ a fridge. He almost opened his mouth to explain some excuse, some lie.

Instead the phrase, “I mean, what did you expect?” fell out of his mouth.

Andrew scoffed, the closest thing to a laugh Andrew would give. “So where are we headed?”

“What we’re not going back to the grocery store again?” Neil faked a pout, crossed his arms. “Disappointed. Thought we could explore the freezer aisle this time.”

“Unfortunately, your shitty grocery store isn’t interesting enough for one trip, let alone two.” Andrew rolled his eyes and gestured towards the back of the bike. “Hop on. I have an idea.”

There wasn’t a seat there, so Neil stood on the pegs on the back wheel. He paused before wrapping his arms around Andrew’s waist. “I—um, are you okay if I—"

“Shoulders,” he answered before Neil even asked the question, grabbing Neil’s hands to move them into place. Neil felt briefly relieved. “Don’t fall.”

Andrew said it seconds before speeding off in the direction he’d come.

Neil thought he had been going recklessly fast yesterday, but Andrew took it to a new level. He was confident and capable, and his wheels didn’t even slip in the mud for a second. Practice, probably. He’d probably been riding one for years. Even when Neil had a bike, his father would never have let him go further than the driveway. Riding a bicycle around a bedroom wasn’t really enough practice to get good. Andrew clearly didn’t have that problem. He wondered how far his parents would let him go before they told him to go home. He wondered if he had a phone and an allowance and _trust._ He wondered if he was given a curfew and a warning and a generous use of ' _we’re not mad just disappointed.'_ He didn’t know which was a more appealing, really. Neil told himself not to feel the yearning, burning jealousy in the bottom of his lungs.

Andrew stopped the bike nearly fast enough to throw Neil off the back. Instead, it just shook Neil up enough for his brain to leave his wondering behind. Neil looked up to see a diner staring back at him. “Sweetie’s?” Neil asked, stepping off the back to watch Andrew lock up the bike.

“Breakfast,” Andrew answered, like it was obvious.

Neil scoffed, like he wasn’t secretly grateful. “How do you know I didn’t already have breakfast?”

Andrew looked him up and down, the same kind of knowing glances that he had been given since they’d met each other. “You didn’t have breakfast.”

No question, just an answer. “I didn’t bring—”

Another look. Andrew rolled his eyes as dramatically as physically possible. “Come on, Neil, I know you’re smarter than that. You’ve gotta have at least one cog spinning in there.” Neil clenched his jaw. The jealousy curled under his ribs again and Neil crossed his arms to keep it down. “I said you were right yesterday.” Neil still didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to say ‘thank you’ and ‘I wish it wasn’t like this’ in the same sentence. Andrew grabbed the end of his sleeve, started dragging him towards the entrance. “Come on. We’re getting pancakes.”

Neil’s head was off in the clouds that mixed his jealousy and awe of Andrew. It wasn't that Neil wanted to be Andrew, that didn't really feel right, but he wanted something like it. He wanted access to it. He wanted to be able to be pay for things and ride him around on a bike and be with him without thinking about how different they were.

Neil barely noticed when he sat down at a booth, across the table from Andrew. It took Andrew snapping in front of his face for him to finally wake up. A coffee and a water had occupied the space between them at some point, Andrew holding the handle of the former. “Earth to Neil? Are you in today or have the cogs really stopped turning?”

Neil blinked the confusion out of his eyes, attempting to give Andrew the same kind of look that he had been given earlier. He had a feeling it didn’t have the same effect. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He wasn’t sure if that was really the answer to the question Andrew had asked, but he figured it was close enough. Andrew must’ve figured otherwise, judging by the curl of his lip over his mug of coffee. “Ask me something.”

“What?”

Andrew shrugged. “Ask me something. It’s my turn for the truth and it looks like you have a question anyway.”

Neil thought briefly about lying. About asking an easy question with an easy answer, and letting it be Andrew’s turn to ask again. It wasn’t necessarily a more comfortable position, but it was less work on his turn. But the question fell from him before he could stop it. “What are your parents like?”

Andrew made a face, clearly caught off guard. “Why?” Andrew asked, clearly unsettled.

It was Neil’s turn to shrug. “Just curious, I guess.”

Andrew swirled his mug, jaw clenched tight enough that Neil could see it from this distance. “Well Mom was a dead beat. Had a particular penchant for drug addiction and violence towards children. By the grace of whatever you want to call out, she OD’d when my brother and I were four. I’d give a guess Dad was the same, but given that he left before I was born, I don’t think I could tell you for sure.”

“Here you go, boys,” the waitress said, breaking the silence as she placed the dishes down. Pancakes with extra syrup in front of Andrew, and an omelet with a side of fruit in front of Neil. Neil didn’t remember ordering, but he didn’t mind the break of the tension.

Neil was still frozen with the shock, even with Andrew cutting into his pancakes. “I didn’t—”

Andrew waved his hand, brushing the comment out of the air. “It’s whatever.” Andrew pointed at the food. “Eat. I think it’ll turn your brain back on.”

Neil twirled his forked in his hands, the answer settling in his throat. “So… are you gonna ask me something?”

Andrew shrugged, gripping his hands together over the plate. There was a clear wall up now, some small shift in the conversation. “What happened to your Dad?”

Neil’s body froze with the pure fear running through it. The jealousy in his chest had been slammed out of him, replaced now by terror and memories. A bell chimed somewhere over his shoulder, an opening door, and Neil knew that he was dead. He’d let Andrew sit them both down, and now his back was to the door and his father had found him. He found him and he was coming and he was going to kill him right here, right now in front of Andrew of all people. Neil’s body forgot how to be his own. “I can’t… I can’t answer that.”

“That’s not how this game works, Neil,” Andrew said, bland false cheer in his voice.

Neil’s grip on his fork was white knuckled. “This isn’t about the game. This is—"

A hand clamped down on Neil’s shoulder and he could’ve screamed. Could’ve kicked the window out and ran. Should’ve—

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here, boys,” a familiar voice called. Familiar, but not familiar enough to be who he thought it was. “Normally, I wouldn’t condone you making friends with a criminal, Andrew, but I think I can make an exception here.”

Andrew’s false mirth had left his face, replaced by the all too typical annoyance. “You know I thought about asking you your opinion, Coach, but for some reason I didn’t end up caring.”

Neil forced a breath into his lungs, shaky and slow. _Coach,_ he tried to remind himself. Chief Wymack. He was fine. Wymack was good. This was easy. Just a hand on a shoulder and a too loud voice, and a flinch held in back in Neil’s chest.

“Kevin too,” Andrew said, with a kind of grumble to his voice. “You know I would say I’m glad to see you, except that would be lying.”

“I texted you yesterday,” the third voice, presumably Kevin asked. “We were playing pickup exy. I thought you'd wanna join.”

Andrew stirred his coffee. “Some of us do have a life outside of exy, Kevin.”

Coach’s hand had long left Neil’s shoulder, but he swore he could still feel it. The way that his fingers had so casually laid over the mark the iron had left. Neil was almost sure it was still burning blistering right underneath his hoodie.

Andrew made eye contact with him across the table. Neil thought about returning it, but he knew that Andrew would understand it too well. He’d see through the free and the panic and say something. Neil wasn’t ready for that in the slightest. His eyes landed on the table instead.

“Mind if we join you?” Wymack asked. His voice didn’t even sound like his father, his father wouldn’t even say something like that. Neil still felt his body tense up.

“You sure, Coach?” Andrew answered, a hint of suspicion counting his words. Andrew wasn’t serious, but Wymack was. He was lowering his body next to Neil’s, like he was going to sit. “We both know Neil’s a criminal. Might end up stealing your—”

Neil shot up off of the booth’s seat, making Wymack and Kevin both jump back with him. The water on the table jerked in front of him, spilling over everything. Neil barely even noticed. He had bigger problems to face. “I—sorry. Going. Bathroom.”

He couldn’t even pretend that he looked or sounded normal. He almost ran out of the booth, towards the bathroom sign.

***

Neil was awful at hiding when things were wrong with him. Andrew could sense it the moment that he picked him up, in the tight hunch of his shoulders and the firm way he kept looking at the ground. He would’ve asked about it, if it didn’t explode in front of him faster than he could’ve managed.

“Shit, sorry,” Wymack said, wiping up the water that had exploded over everything with a stack of napkins from the waitress. Andrew figured she’d seen it happen. He forced himself not to think about how long she’d been watching them, how much she may have heard. The mostly empty diner on a Monday morning wasn’t too much of a comfort. Wymack gestured over his shoulder vaguely. “Do you wanna—”

“Already on it,” Andrew said, much more carefully releasing himself from the table and heading towards the bathroom.

For a half a second, the men’s room looked almost empty. But even Neil couldn’t hide the ragged sound of his breathing coming from the last stall. Andrew shut the bathroom door and locked it, knowing that Neil likely didn’t want to share with the rest of the diner, given what had already happened. “Thought you’d have run,” Andrew said, leaning against the now shut door.

A pause. “I just thought—” Neil’s hoarse voice croaked out from the final stall. “I didn’t want you to—I don’t know. I didn’t think that I could really.”

His voice sounded constricted and slick in a way that could only come from tears. Andrew tried not to mention it.

Instead, he ran his finger through the grout between the tiles on the walls. “You know, you’re much more eloquent when you’re not having a mental breakdown.”

“I’m sorry,” Neil said, his voice muffled like it was coming through the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Boring,” Andrew said. “You sound like every other mental breakdown in the history of mental breakdowns. Try something a bit more creative why don’t you.”

Andrew could almost feel Neil’s eyes rolling in his head. “You’re not helpful, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that on occasion. I’m going to make the guess you’re not actually pissing and walk in by the way,” Andrew said it after he’d already walked towards the stall, finishing the sentence just as he came to the stall door. The fact that it was still open gave him a fair chance at being correct anyway.

Neil was tucked in the furthest corner, knees drawn tightly to his chest and arms set on top. His eyes were rimmed and watery, even as he wiped at them with the ends of his sleeves and tried to force a laugh out of his throat. “Lucky guess.”

Andrew was never particularly good about crying. The only person who did it with any sort of regularity in his life was Nicky, and even then it was more of a joke than something to be dealt with. But yet again, Neil didn’t seem like someone wanted to be dealt with, so Andrew just sat across the stall from him instead. Something about this seemed like Neil didn’t necessarily want him within arm’s reach. “So clearly this isn’t a mental breakdown caused by germs, considering where you’re currently sitting.”

“Have you seen my house? I don’t think I can afford to be scared of germs,” Neil murmured against his sleeves. It was a pretty fair joke, but Neil delivered it with the same energy that he would tell Andrew about his socks, or a particularly boring dream. He must’ve heard it in his own voice, because he tucked himself closer to the wall. “I—Wymack’s the same age as my dad.”

The statement creaked out of his throat, a small broken thing compared to what he’d said before. Andrew saw the way he blinked back the tears, even though he tried to hide it. “I see.”

“I just—I was trying to—his hand—”

“I have a new question, actually. Let's forget the last one,” Andrew said, cutting him off. Andrew didn't really want the answer to the last one anyway, and that made the whole thing dishonest. That seemed unfair. “Why’d you ask me about my parents? Real reason, not that ‘just curious’ bullshit.”

Neil shifted his weight. “I just… you just… you have all your money. And you can spend the whole day out. And you spend nights at the police station and I thought that… I wondered what it was like. For them to trust you like that. I just... I wanted to know what that kind of family was like.”

Andrew paused. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but it wasn’t completely the opposite either. Andrew stood again, wiping his hands on his jeans and holding one out to him. “Alright. C’mon, then. Wash your hands.”

“Why?” Neil asked, still taking Andrew’s hand. Like trusted him. Andrew forced himself not to think about it.

Andrew took a second to breathe before he said the most damning statement of the day. “Sounds like you didn’t get an answer to your question.”

Andrew had a loose plan for the day before this. Something along the lines of breakfast and then the bookstore. Something easy and comfortable and fun for mostly himself. And now that plan was replaced with something that grated underneath his skin much more.

Andrew never particularly liked when people were concerned with him. Worse was when they cared. But him caring back? That was the most painful.

He sat himself and Neil back at the table, this time together on one side with Wymack and Kevin on the other. Andrew sat himself against the wall, giving Neil space to run if he needed to. Neither of them mentioned the now dry table, or the new, nearly identical plates to the ones that they’d been eating out of before. “Everything good?” Wymack asked as soon as they’d gotten back. “Sorry if I scared you back there, bud.”

Andrew ignored him, waving a hand out to the other side of the table. “Neil, this is Wymack and Kevin. Wymack’s friends with Nicky. He’s bigger than he is scary. Coaches our little league team, when he’s not pretending to like the cops he works with. Kevin’s his kid and all he thinks about is exy. If you want a boring conversation, talk to him.” Andrew paused before saying the hardest part. “They’re friends, technically, but they’re around enough to be family at this point.”

Wymack gave him a look that said ‘that’s sweet’ and also ‘that does not sound like anything you would ever say.’ Luckily he didn’t seem to want to point it out. “Nice to meet you again, Neil.” He didn’t hold out his hand this time. He could learn at least.

“So do you play exy?” Kevin asked, being absolutely himself. Like Andrew knew he would. Andrew felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, almost involuntarily.

Neil shook his head. “What's that?"

Kevin looked like he was going to spit out his eggs. “You’re not being serious. You haven’t seen anything? Like not even on tv?”

Neil shrugged, still not looking up to the other side of the table. “My family doesn’t have a tv.”

Kevin looked confused for half a second, but he cared more about his sport than the poverty of Andrew’s random friend so he brushed it away for the excitement. “Oh my god, you’d love it. It’s like this—”

Andrew groaned. “See, this is already an incredibly boring conversation. In case you were wondering.”

“Well it’s not like I could just show him—”

“Maybe if you stopped talking about it for two seconds, you could let me tell you that Neil and I are going back to my house after this. You could show him there.” Andrew knew that would only make for a longer conversation later, but at least this one would be over.

“Your place?” Neil and Kevin asked at the same time, Neil’s a barely whispered question and Kevin’s loud enough for the whole diner to hear.

“Yeah,” Andrew said like it was almost casual. “If it’ll make Kevin shut up about exy for once, I’ll take him to the freaking moon.”

Kevin’s eyes got the starry-eyed look he got whenever someone mentioned the possibility of playing exy. “Oh my god, Dad, can we go to Andrew’s after this? I swear, I’ll clean my room when I get home and—”

“First of all, no you won’t, you never do. And second of all, I don’t see why not. You twerps need a ride there?”

Andrew had known Wymack for almost as long as he’d known Nicky. He knew that Wymack would fall in love with Neil the way that he fell in love with every kid around him. He’d known from experience Wymack wasn’t big on first impressions. Andrew noticed the gratitude in his chest before he could stop it.

Kevin was true to his word, at least. They managed to have a normal conversation all throughout breakfast, even with the way that Kevin was clearly bouncing off the walls the whole time. Andrew was almost impressed with the way Neil totally ignored it. Also by the way he ate his omelet, half ravenous, like someone might take it away from him, and half tensed.

It was the same way he sat in the car, pressed against the window, watching the buildings going by with an excited eye and shoulders hitched up to his ears. Andrew thought about pointing them out, shoving his shoulders down in the process, but something told him that Neil would jump, and Andrew didn’t want to see him do that.

“Hey, Andrew,” Nicky said over his shoulder when Andrew walked everyone into the house. He was in the kitchen, back turned as he cleaned the kitchen. “Did you have breakfast? We put a bit aside for you but we weren’t sure when you’d—” He cut himself out when he turned to see everyone standing in the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Coach! Andrew didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“Wasn’t really planning on it,” Coach shrugged. “Kevin and I ran into Andrew and his friend at the diner.”

And that was when Nicky’s eyes found Neil’s. He was kind of hiding behind Kevin and Andrew, but they both moved aside when Nicky found him. “Hi,” Nicky smiled, walking through the crowd to hold out a hand for him, the hand that wasn’t covered in a dishrag. “I’m Nicky. Andrew’s cousin. Has Andrew been hanging out with you for the last few days? Gosh, I was so worried, but you seem trustworthy. You are trustworthy right?”

Andrew was almost disgusted by this obnoxious display of Nicky-isms. He couldn’t expect anything less, really. Neil was a new friend, and Nicky didn’t get a lot of those when it came to the twins.

“Neil,” Neil squeaked out, undeniably intimidated by the growing number of people here. He took Nicky’s hand with careful fingers. “Yeah, uh, Andrew’s been around.” Neil didn’t answer the second question, probably on purpose.

“Oh that’s great,” Nicky said, giving him another confident smile. “I’m so glad Andrew’s branching out. He needs new friends. No offense Kevin. Have you boys eaten? Neil, come get some breakfast, you look like you need—”

“Cool it, Nicky, you’re scaring him,” Andrew cut in. He knew that Nicky would’ve kept going if he didn’t. “We’re gonna play exy in the backyard. Do you know where my old rackets are?”

“Exy too? Gosh, Andrew, you definitely have a type,” Nicky said through a laugh. Andrew sent him a glare that finally got him quiet. “Right, right, rackets. Erik probably put them up in the alcove you might have to ask him. He’s in the backyard with Aaron. Their studying for—"

Andrew grabbed Neil’s sleeve again, walking him towards the back door. Kevin looked relieved, like he’d gotten back into his element. “Finally,” he breathed as they walked outside, twirling his exy racket in his hands. “Okay so, Neil, basically the thing about exy that you really need to know is…” he walked Neil down into the grass, Kevin basically bouncing around him the whole time. Neil looked like he may have been humoring him, but at least mildly interested. Andrew figured that was all he really needed anyway.

Aaron and Erik were sitting at the table on the patio, staring at Kevin and Neil as they left. “Do you know where our old rackets are?”

“Who is that?” Aaron asked, clutching his pencil in his hand like he was ready to break it.

“Neil. Where are my old rackets?” Andrew repeated.

Erik smiled wider than he would’ve expected at least. He looked over at Neil, who was holding Kevin’s racket while Kevin corrected his form. “So that’s where you’ve been for the past few days huh? Can we meet him?”

Andrew knew this was less of a ‘can’ and more of a ‘I’m begging you’ situation. Andrew waved at Neil until he came running over. “Neil, Aaron and Erik. One of them is an asshole and the other is dating my cousin. You can figure out which.”

“Hi,” Neil said, looking much more relaxed than with Nicky, a small smile hanging on his lips. Andrew didn’t think about how much he liked this better than him panicking. At least, not much.

Aaron glared at him anyway, looking him up and down. Neil’s smile fell almost immediately. “So where’d you meet him then? The homeless shelter?”

“Aaron,” Erik scolded, turning back to Neil. “Don’t worry about him. We’re happy to have you here. Do you play exy then?”

Neil shook his head. “Kevin’s teaching me, though. He says I might be able to play with the little league team. If Coach wants me to that is.”

“That sounds great. It’ll be great to have some fresh faces on the team. Let me go see if I can find you a racket then,” Erik said, smile practically plastered on his face as he left Aaron at the table.

Aaron still didn’t smile, if anything, his sneer got bigger. He likely would’ve said something to break the awkward silence, if Kevin didn’t call from down in the grass. “ _Neil_ ,” his voice was all begging. “C’mon! We have to go over drills!”

“Looks like I gotta go,” Neil said, turning to run back. “Nice meeting you.”

“He’s lying, by the way,” Andrew said once Neil had run out of earshot.

Aaron didn’t even respond, which was only slightly upsetting. What a waste of a good insult. “He looks like he just came out of a sewer.”

Andrew shrugged. “Yeah, he does, but because I’m not a classist asshole, the way someone looks doesn’t determine whether or not I’m going to be friends with them.”

“I don’t trust him, Andrew. He’s probably only friends with you because you look like you’ll pay for things.”

Andrew leaned against the fence, letting a bitter chuckle out. “Oh, you’re really leaning into the classist angle today. Let me assure you, if anyone's choosing friends because they have money it's you.”

Aaron didn’t look like he was going to let up. Andrew didn’t care. He could think what he wanted. He wasn’t even really wrong. But what did that matter.

“Rackets!” Erik said triumphantly coming out onto the porch. “I grabbed some of Aaron’s old ones. Figured he wouldn’t be playing goalie. Brought yours too, in case you were planning on playing.”

Andrew grabbed everything but his own. “Think I’ll just be watching today.”

The game got a little more interesting once it wasn’t just Neil and Kevin passing the racket back and forth. Neil was surprisingly fast, given how frail his body was. He playing the same way that he rode a bike—all heart, no brakes. Andrew could see the sparkle in his eye even from where he was sitting on the patio fence.

Okay, maybe he did have a type.

Nicky didn't need to know that.

Neil strolled up to him halfway through, his face covered by sweat and a smile. He may have been here for the lemonade that Nicky hade brought out, but that didn’t really matter anyway. “Hey,” Neil said, grabbing a cup off the platter. He’d taken off his hoodie at some point, a similarly worn t-shirt in its place, a gray that didn’t do anything for him at all.

“Hey yourself,” Andrew said, decidedly not watching the way he pushed up his bangs with the back of his hands. “You look disgusting in case you were wondering.”

“Good. I was aiming for revolting, but I guess disgusting works,” Neil smiled, much brighter than Andrew had seen for the day. It was almost a relief. He hopped up on the fence to sit with him, hand placed casually on top of Andrew’s. Andrew wasn’t going to think about that either. Neither of them looked at their hands, or each other. “Kevin said you’re a good goalie. You should come play with us.”

Andrew scoffed dismissively. “I’m not looking for an excuse for Kevin to talk to me about exy any more than he already does. Which by the way, I’m blaming you if he starts ranting about exy more often than he already does.”

Neil laughed, all dimples and smiles and things that made Andrew feel like he needed to look away. Or break something. “I like them, by the way,” Neil said, biting his lip before he continued. “Your family. They’re good people. I just—thanks. For letting me meet them. I can see why you love them.”

“Don’t tell Nicky that. He’ll start crying and then I’ll have to deal with that for the rest of my life.”

Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand for half a second, so lightly Andrew wasn’t sure that he was even doing it on purpose. “My lips are sealed.”

Kevin shot Neil a begging glance. Neil didn’t even move, so much so that Andrew couldn’t tell if he’d even notice. Andrew thought, maybe, Neil too wanted to sit there for forever, looking out at the clouds. He looked happy, and Andrew liked that.

He chose not to think about how much, or the fact that even if took playing exy, and hanging out with Nicky and Erik, and calling Wymack family, he’d put himself through that every day to make Neil smile again.

He chose not to think about the way he squeezed Neil's hand back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... also i hope you like fun happy andreil because next chapter is hella angsty and I'M PUMPED. Be prepared to have your hearts broken. I'm not sorry.
> 
> ... also also yes I made sweetie's in palmetto rather than in Columbia I did the same with eden's I do what I want thank you very much.


End file.
